The Pink Haired Hermione
by lockXandXkey
Summary: Who would've thought being ditched at a Comic Con by her two best friends would leave Marceline in such a favorable position. A Bubbline!AU


**A/N: This is dedicated to the wonderful Itoshiteru on Tumblr. She requested either Bubbline or something to do with Hermione Granger, so I gave her both. **

**I hope you all enjoy!**

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Marceline's favorite book as a child was, like many children of her generation, _Harry Potter_. She didn't exactly know why she loved it so much – perhaps it held the sense of belonging she so sorely lacked; or perhaps it was because stories about magic, mystery, and adventure gave her some hope that maybe, just maybe, her life could be something great; that maybe she would one day get a letter taking her away from this God-awful place and to Hogwarts, her home. Though she dreamt of leaving, Marceline never did. No letters arrived on her eleventh birthday, and no owls sat perched outside her window, awaiting an answer for a prestigious magical academy.

Right now, though, on April 2nd, Marceline is not thinking about her childhood, and how much she once wanted to leave. Oh no. No, right now, Marceline sits on the dirty, carpeted floor of her city's convention center, staring at the pink-haired girl cosplaying as Hermione Granger. The girl smiles politely at Dean Winchester, who is leaning against the wall next to her. Marceline tells herself that the only reason she is currently checking out a pink-haired girl is because this is a Comic Con, and that is Hermione Granger, and Marceline has crushed on Hermione since before she knew what it felt like to crush, so it's alright to notice just how lovely a cosplayer is, right?

At least, it's all right until Hermione-Girl catches Marceline staring.

Marceline hastily looks down at her tattered jeans and twists her wand between her fingers. Her round glasses slide down her nose, and she swiftly pushes them back up. Beginning to feel self-conscious, Marceline runs a hand through her long coal black hair. Her spiky bangs almost hide the lightning bolt scar she penciled on with eyeliner an hour ago when she was on her way here. At the moment, Marceline just hopes it doesn't look to juvenile. Maybe Hermione-Girl didn't see her, maybe she isn't annoyed at some chick gazing in awe at her hair, maybe –

"Hello there."

Marceline licks her lips and tilts her head back. Hermione-Girl stands before her, hands on her hips, bushy pink curls catching the florescent light behind her and holding it loosely.

"Um, hi," Marceline says.

"You know," Hermione-Girl says as she hunkers down and sits next to Marceline, careful to hold her gray skirt down, "you're the first person I've seen all day that's cosplaying as a Harry Potter character. Other than myself, of course."

Marceline ignores the fact that Hermione-Girl's skirt is very short, and that there is hardly any room between her knee and Hermione-Girl's thigh. Instead, she says, "Really? When I first got here, I saw Voldemort playing some kinda makeshift football game with a bunch of Cybermen, Edward Cullen, and Spock."

Hermione-Girl laughs. It's not a girly laugh, nor is it particularly masculine. It sounds rather jovial, like a laugh should, not the stereotypical tinkling of bells. Marceline has never heard anything more beautiful come out of someone's mouth, and all she wants in this moment is to hear that incredible noise again. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Marceline tries for a smile, and Hermione-Girl grins back.

After a moment of awkward silence, Marceline blurts out, "I love your hair." This effectively makes Hermione-Girl laugh again.

"Thanks, Mr. Potter."

"Anytime, Miss Granger." Marceline is not experienced in the acts of flirtation, but this certainly feels like flirting. "Do you dye it often?"

"Nah, it's only ever been pink." Hermione-Girl runs her fingers through her hair, untangling a few knots. "When I was little, my mom always called me the Bubblegum Princess, because I chewed bubblegum all the time because it's pink, so, I dunno, I guess I've always had a thing for pink. That part of me has always been lurking inside, just waiting to burst through, I guess."

"That's really sweet. That she called you the Bubblegum Princess, I mean."

"Yeah, it was." Hermione-Girl falls silent, then murmurs, "I've never told anyone that before."

"Seriously? 'Cause that's the most adorable shit I've ever heard," Marceline says before she can stop herself.

Hermione-Girl looks a bit startled, blue eyes widening a bit, but she smiles. "Thanks. I'm Bonnibel, by the way." She extends her hand to Marceline, who takes it. Hermione-Girl's – _Bonnibel's_ – hand is warm and her skin soft against Marceline's rough fingers.

"I'm Marceline."

"Marceline," Bonnibel says, the word sliding off her tongue like a bubbling stream over stones. "I like it."

Marceline blushes lightly, but hides it with a cough in the sleeve of her jacket. Marceline lowers her arm, accidentally jostling Bonnibel's shoulder as she stretches, arching her back with a yawn. "Sorry," Marceline mumbles, to which Bonnibel waves her hand in a general _It's fine_ manner.

"So. A whole day of Comic Con ahead of you. What are your plans?"

Marceline shrugs. "I dunno. I was supposed to meet a couple friends here, but they ditched. Said they had other stuff they had to do. They're probably at a party getting drunk or some shit, knowing them. Who knows, maybe Jake's finally taking his girlfriend out for the date she deserves. Probably with Finn third wheeling. Or maybe they're on a double date. Who even cares."

Marceline shifts her weight uncomfortably looking over at Dean Winchester, who has moved on to flirt with River Song. With a slight hum, Bonnibel says, "You know, you could hang with me today, if you want. I mean, my party left me as well, so we can be loners together."

Slowly, Marceline turns back to Bonnibel, unable to quell the excitement that leaps in the pit of her stomach. "Really? I wouldn't annoy the crap outta you?"

"No, of course not." Bonnibel climbers to her feet and extends a hand to Marceline, who gratefully accepts it. Looking down, Bonnibel absently brushes the back of her skirt off. "I'm always willing to spend some time with a fellow Potterhead." Smiling, Bonnibel glances up from tidying her clothes and does a double take. She hesitates for a moment, then reaches up to Marceline's face and straightens her crooked glasses.

Marceline ignores the blush that once again highlights her cheeks, and says, "Why thank you, Hermione."

"Anytime, Harry." Bonnibel swings around Marceline and links their arms. "Would you like to accompany me to the food court?"

"Sure. They might have something…"

"Something…?" The two begin walking toward the food court, arms still linked.

"Red," Marceline says meekly. "I only eat red things. I know, I'm weird, it's just, like, a pet peeve or something. God, I'm such a freak."

Bonnibel laughs. "No, no, it's… endearing."

As Marceline watches Bonnibel's face and ponders the fact that no one has ever called her "endearing" before, she can't help but hope that Finn and Jake ditch her tomorrow, too, so that she can once again spend the day with this pink-haired girl with a funny name cosplaying as Hermione Granger.

What Marceline doesn't know is that in twenty-one hours, she will wake up on an unfamiliar couch, in an unfamiliar apartment. This apartment belongs to Bonnibel, called Bubblegum Princess by her mother. Marceline doesn't know that in four weeks, she will be getting ready for her fifth date with a pink-haired beauty. Marceline doesn't know that they will be together for five months, break up for two years, get back together on a New Year's night, and eventually get married not far from where they first met, on April 2nd. On their first anniversary, Marceline and Bonnibel will go to a convention center dressed up as a female Harry Potter and a pink haired Hermione Granger.

And they will live happily ever after.


End file.
